Potrait of the Past
by N. E. Shaw
Summary: A short piece about Karone's resurfacing childhood memories following her turn to the side of good. For back-story, read "All the Wrong Places".


_Author's Note: This story is loosely based on 'All The Wrong Places', in that it takes place on KO-35 with Andros, Ashley, Zhane and Karone living together in the Karovans' family home following the conclusion of PRiS._

"Portrait of the Past"  
June 19, 2001

Zhane reclined in the shadow of the back porch, a tall cup of water on the step next to him. There was a faint organic smell coming from the garden where the vines were heavy with fruit. If not for the hot, baking stretch of lawn between him and the tomato patch, he would have gone over and sampled some.

The porch door squeaked and Karone emerged from the house. She sniffed the air and smiled. "I wonder if my strawberries are up."

Braving the heat, she descended the steps and crossed the lawn. Zhane followed with his eyes, admiring the way her worn sundress described the shape of her body underneath.

While she moved among the thick foliage, ducking to pick berry or bean, Zhane grew thoughtful watching her. There has been a lot of silence in their house recently because of Karone. She had been dreaming in fits, seeing childhood memories as she slept. Her sleep had made her unsociable, and created a strange vibe in the house that not even Zhane or Ashley dared disturb. So loud talking was taken outside and no one had spent any quality time with Karone in a week.

Zhane wondered if he could sneak some in today. She seemed pretty light of heart; no wounded gaze or mournful frown. Leaving the shade, he stepped down from the porch and joined her in the garden.

When he got there she had a half-eaten tomato near her mouth and a frown, directed towards the woods behind the house.

He picked a tomato of his own and bit into it. "What're you thinking?"

She acted like she hadn't heard him. She didn't take her eyes off the woods, tilting her head to see something better. Zhane followed her gaze. The only notable thing in sight was that massive tree they used to play on as kids.

Karone headed for it, obviously intrigued from the way her forehead was wrinking. They picked their way through the woods where dappled sunlight fell through the treetops, until they stood before the great tree. It still dwarfed them, just like when they were small.

Zhane spit out some seeds. "D'you remember playing on this thing?"

Karone shook her head. Hoping to jog her memory, he went to the lowest branch and started climbing. There were so many branches, spaced so close together that it was as easy as climbing a ladder. He recalled exactly where he used to put his feet, and soon found the sitting place where he once liked to park his seven year old behind. He could see everything from here; the house, the skyport, the smudge of red where they had planted geraniums in the demolished stump at the end of the drive.

He looked straight down and saw Karone craning her neck to see him. He called to her, "I remember you never could climb as high as me."

She considered the dare for a moment but then she turned away, moving out of sight around the tree. Zhane swallowed his disappointment and enjoyed the view while he was up here.

A minute went by. Then he heard her speak to herself in a voice that was disbelieving. He leaned down to look for her but she was out of sight behind the tree trunk.

"Karone?"

A few seconds later her voice floated up to him. "Come down here!"

As swiftly as possible, he climbed down from his perch and dropped to the ground. She was on the other side of the wide trunk. He found her kneeling between two roots as thick as his arms, digging in the thin soil there.

"What are you doing?"

She didn't look up. "I think there's something buried here. I think I buried it when I was little."

He knelt next to her and looked into the hole she had made. There was nothing but clumps of dirt in there, yet Karone clawed at them with certainty. "Are you sure? What would you put here?" A large clump jumped out of the hole and rolled over to him. "Hey, wait..."

Karone froze as he picked up the filthy ball. A few shakes revealed that it was a balled up cloth with a string around it. It had dim traces of blue embroidery, rather like that which had once adorned her mother's table napkins.

"That's it," said Karone. "That's mine."

He handed it to her and she held it like a precious egg. Her dusty fingers pried at the string until it came free, and the cloth fell open in her hand. Inside there was a string of coloured plastic beads made to look like jewels. There was also an unevenly folded piece of paper soaked brown from soil and rain.

Karone lifted the necklace carefully, and her eyes shone with recognition. "This is mine," she whispered. It was about as long as her forearm, made of plain white string tied in sloppy knots at both ends. It was big enough to encircle a child's throat with room to spare, and it would fit Karone's slender neck easily. Zhane waited for her to ask him to put it on.

"I made it at Playdeck," she said to herself. "Larah had special beads and she shared them with me because I shared my crisps with her..."

She fell silent as this torrent of memories came to her. Zhane found himself able to recall her at age five, parading around with the sparkling thing looped around her throat. She ate, bathed and slept with it for weeks, until someone hid it from her.

Karone didn't look at him, but he knew she would remember the whole story. He had hidden her beads under a floorboard in Andros's bedroom. He was damned if he could remember why, but Karone had been hysterical about it. A week later when he went to look for them, they had vanished. Then he found his toy laser rifle buried in a flower bed, full of dirt and ruined. He had never seen her wear the beads again, because she had buried them under the climbing tree.

Zhane felt a sudden urge to duck his head and apologize, but he was curious about the piece of paper. Karone was still absorbed by the necklace so he took it and unfolded it with an archaeologist's care. It was a crayon drawing, faded and stained, with five human figures standing under a spikey yellow sun. Two of them were tall, and they were labelled in scrawling child's handwriting "Mom" and "Daddy". They held the hands of two smaller people, one with curly yellow squiggles for hair, and the other with straight brown and yellow lines. He was labelled "Andros" and the blond figure "Me".

Separate from the smiling family was another child-sized person, this one a little taller than Andros with short spiky hair and a mean face. Karone had drawn a smile on him, but gave him severely downturned eyebrows. Above his head were the words "Zane. He is a jerk."

When he saw this, Zhane's heart ached for the tiny girl he had crossed all those years ago; the girl whose vengeance had come down upon his toy rifle.

Karone's eyes glistened when he showed her the picture. She touched her scribbly self-portrait and smiled sadly, trying to find the words to express herself. Instead, she handed Zhane the beads.

There was just enough string to do a strong knot without choking her. The necklace lay against her throat just inside the claw & medallion locket, and adorned her with a cheery bit of colour.

As he smoother her hair in the back, she found her voice. "You were such a little bastard then."

Guiltily, the bastard put his arms around her and they smiled together at the portrait of old feelings.

A few evenings later, Andros and Ashley climbed the front steps with sacks of groceries in hand. They opened the door to find Zhane and Karone hanging a framed picture in the foyer.

"Somebody's diploma?" Ashley guessed. Karone stood back from her work to let them see. Andros stared at the hanging like he was staring at a time-portal. "Where did that come from?"

Ashley turned from it to greet Zhane. "What did you do now, jerk?"


End file.
